The Don of the Castello family, Griffin Castello, was targeted by a car bomb in a premeditated attack at a charity gala at the Art Institute of Chicago.

At that moment, my husband, Julian Thorne, who was in charge of the Don's security detail, had abandoned his post to be with his childhood sweetheart, Scarlett Shaw. He had even taken the core security team with him to a private yacht party on Lake Michigan.

I didn't activate my emergency communicator. Instead, despite being six months pregnant, I threw myself in front of Griffin, my body shielding him from the glass curtain wall that shattered in the blast.

In my past life, I had pressed that button.

Julian had abandoned Scarlett, rushed back to save Griffin's life, and was hailed as a hero for it—even earning a promotion.

But because Julian had left her, Scarlett had an "accidental" fall into the lake and drowned.

Julian resented me for it. Without a word, right after I gave birth, he sold my child and me to the black market.

"The Don has his own men! Why did you have to call me back? Was it for nothing more than your damn vanity?"

"If it weren't for you, Scarlett would still be alive! You'll pay for what you did, and I'll make you suffer a thousand different kinds of pain before you die!"

I could only watch as my organs were carved out one by one, and even my newborn child was not spared.

In the end, I died in excruciating agony from my wounds and the subsequent infection.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of Griffin's ambush.

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1

"There's a bomb! Protect Don Castello!"

A scream ripped through the elegant atmosphere of the gala.

Watching the car hurtling toward the museum entrance, my first instinct was to recoil.

The memory of being carved apart in my past life, of dying in agony, sent a phantom jolt through my nerves. As chaos erupted in the grand hall, that searing pain shot through me once more.

I had been reborn. And right at the moment Don Griffin Castello was about to be ambushed.

Shaking myself back to the present, I placed a protective hand on my slightly swollen belly. My baby was still alive. I still had a chance.

Amid the chaos, I took the emergency communicator from my clutch and tossed it into a nearby decorative fountain.

Among the panicked crowd, the Don stood completely exposed.

The car had already smashed through the barricades. The driver wore a crazed grin, his hand reaching for the detonator.

Without a moment's hesitation, I shoved the Don behind a thick marble column, using my own body as a shield.

An instant later, a deafening explosion tore through the air.

A shockwave laced with glass shards slammed into my back. The impact threw me to my knees, a piercing pain shooting to the bone.

I coughed violently, blood trickling from the corner of my mouth.

Then, as a massive chandelier broke free from the ceiling, I met the Don's stunned gaze and threw myself in front of him again.

"Be... careful, Don Castello... The family... it needs you..."

I watched as the astonishment in his eyes melted into gratitude. In that moment, I knew my gamble had paid off.

My husband, Julian Thorne, was a Capo in the Castello family and was supposed to be by the Don's side at all times.

Yet, during today's ambush, he was nowhere to be seen.

It was all because his childhood sweetheart, Scarlett Shaw, had said she wanted to go to a yacht party on the lake. So he abandoned his post, taking the entire core security detail with him to escort her.

In my past life, I had worried Julian would be punished for this dereliction of duty, so I pressed the emergency communicator to summon him back.

Although he had abandoned his post, he returned in time to save the Don and was hailed as a hero for it.

But Julian later accused me of being vain, blaming me for Scarlett's death. He sold me and our child to the black market, where we were tortured to death.

Since fate had given me a second chance, I swore I wouldn't let history repeat itself.

After the explosion subsided, we were surrounded by the wreckage of the car bomb. But thanks to me, the Don was unharmed.

Just then, the Soldati, having gotten the news, finally arrived. They raised their guns and cordoned off the entire area.

The crisis was over.

But I could feel the faint stirring inside me slowly ceasing. Warm, sticky blood flowed from the wounds on my back, and a violent tremor ran through me.

I was six months pregnant.

My hand reached for something that wasn't there, my vision tunneled to black, and I collapsed.

The Don caught me, his voice laced with panic as he yelled, "Get Dr. Elliot! Now! And get her husband—bring him here at once!"

I tried to speak, but I could only cough up more blood. Yet, the Don showed no disgust. He leaned in, trying to hear me.

I gathered all my strength and managed to gasp, "My name is... Aurora Valenti. I'm... Capo Thorne's wife."

As soon as I finished speaking, a wave of utter exhaustion washed over me.

The family's doctor, Dr. Marcus Elliot, hastily administered a shot of adrenaline.

The sharp sting jolted me back to consciousness.

Dr. Elliot wiped the sweat from his brow. "Stay with me, Mrs. Valenti. You have to stay conscious. If you pass out now, you might not wake up."

He added gently, "Think of your husband. Your child. They need you."

The Don's voice cut in, stern and commanding. "You saved my life. That is a debt I will never forget."

"When you recover, you will have everything you deserve. The child you're carrying is now my godchild."

"Hold on. I've sent for Julian."

Hearing the Don's words, I managed a weak smile. I knew better.

The warm gush of blood between my legs during the blast had already told me the truth. My baby was gone.

As for Julian, I knew he wasn't coming.

As if to confirm my thoughts, the Soldato the Don had sent returned alone. He kept his head bowed, not daring to meet the Don's eyes.

"Where is he?" the Don asked, his brow furrowed in displeasure.

The Soldato's voice trembled. "Don Castello, Julian... he refuses to come back. He said... 'Tell that drama queen to cut the act and stop wasting my time'..."

The Soldato was bent over at nearly a ninety-degree angle, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

I knew Julian's actual words were far crueler—the man just didn't dare repeat them verbatim to the Don.

After all, Scarlett had been slandering me for a long time. By now, Julian assumed any pain I felt was just an act for his attention.

In my past life, when I pleaded for his help, he called me vain. Now, when the Don himself summoned him, he called me a drama queen.

If he only cared about Scarlett, then why had he pursued me so desperately in the first place?

A bitter mix of sorrow and rage churned in my gut. I turned my head to the side and coughed up a spray of blood.

Dr. Elliot's expression grew grim.

"Don, she's critical! We're losing her. If we can't give her a reason to live, medicine alone won't be enough!"

The Don's gaze fell on my pale face. He could no longer suppress the fury rising in his chest.

He pulled out his encrypted satellite phone—a privilege reserved for his inner circle—and thrust it into the Soldato's hands. His voice was ice-cold. "Use this to call Julian."

"Everyone in this family knows my number. If he still refuses to answer, he's a traitor."

This time, the Don was truly enraged.

He was normally surrounded by guards, yet during the attack, not a single core security member had been by his side.

I had risked my life to save him, and yet his own Capo wouldn't even answer a summons for his dying wife.

This was more than just negligence. It was an open challenge to his authority.

I was rushed to a private floor of the hospital, where powerful drugs and a web of machines kept me alive as I awaited surgery.

When the Soldato spoke again, I was only half-conscious, but I heard his words.

"Don Castello, Mr. Thorne still refuses to come back. But... he sent an assistant."

I forced my eyes open and saw Brenda Cole, Scarlett's lackey and the woman who had betrayed me.

Brenda used to be my assistant.

But during my pregnancy, Scarlett had bribed her into leaking my architectural designs. The plagiarism scandal that followed nearly ruined my career.

Fortunately, I found evidence to prove my innocence.

I had no intention of forgiving the traitor. Just as I was about to fire her, Scarlett had intervened.

I still remembered that day vividly.

Scarlett had clung to Julian's arm, chiding me in a self-righteous tone.

"How can you be so cruel, Aurora? Brenda is just an assistant. How could she possibly have access to your final designs?"

"Don't try to tell me this isn't some drama you cooked up. Even if you want Julian's sympathy, you should never have dragged Brenda into it!"

Then, she had turned to Julian and cooed, "Julian, why don't you let Brenda be my assistant? I won't lose my temper with her for some ridiculous reason, like some people do."

Looking at Brenda's face, pure hatred surged through me. I trembled uncontrollably.

However, Brenda assumed I was trembling with guilt.

She had been startled by my blood-soaked appearance, but now, her voice dripped with a smug, self-righteous tone. "Cut the act, Aurora Valenti."

"Mr. Thorne is with Scarlett right now, and he specifically said no one is to disturb them. He sent me to tell you something."

"Enough is enough. Don't make things any uglier than they already are."

"He said he didn't want to be so heartless, but you're always so jealous, making a huge deal out of nothing, even faking serious injuries. When your child grows up, what will he think when he finds out his mother was a hysterical mess?"

As Brenda finished, the Don's face hardened with murderous intent. Yet, she was blissfully unaware of who he was.

She even pointed at the Don, who hadn't had time to change out of his blood-stained tuxedo, and sneered, "And who's this filthy man, Aurora?"

"Decided your pathetic little act wasn't enough, so you found some cheap gigolo off the street to get a rise out of Julian? God, you have terrible taste."

"What do you think will happen if I tell Julian you're fooling around with this trash while you're pregnant? Do you think he'll throw you into Lake Michigan to feed the fish?"

Then, Brenda let out a triumphant, unhinged laugh, convinced she had seen right through my ruse.

After all, the Don was covered in blood, his clothes disheveled; she never would have connected this man to the powerful figure she imagined.

That's why she assumed the feared and respected Don Castello was nothing more than my lover.

A cold snort cut her laughter short.

Two Soldati immediately stepped forward and forced Brenda to the ground. It wasn't until the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against her forehead that she realized she had offended someone she could never afford to cross.

Just as she was about to beg for mercy, the butt of a pistol smashed into her mouth, and she was dragged out of the room.

"Break her legs and lock her up. Take a picture and send it to Julian," the Don said, his voice glacial. "Tell him to get here himself. I'd like to see what's so important that he would completely ignore Mrs. Valenti."

I immediately noticed the change in how the Don addressed me.

I was no longer "Capo Thorne's wife," but "Mrs. Valenti."

This was the result I wanted.

In the Don's eyes, a line had been drawn. I was his savior, and Julian was a traitor to be disposed of.

It had been an incredibly risky move, but it had paid off.